My Home

Wading through the quiet  path along  with the  trees and flowers , birds singing , you can catch sight of a two-floor-cottage like that in the Snow White. Located in Haidian District in Beijing,not far from the Fragrant Hills Park, you can imagine how peaceful it is. 

When you stepped into my house,  the first thing that leaps to your eyes is my living room. The abstract paintings hanging on the wall, the jars  randomly painted by the mediterranean artists, the plangi brought from Yunnan province, the books hunted for in diversified markets and bookstores, the handmade carpet, the decorated lamps, just melt me as soon as I come back home. 

The reading corner is one of my favorite  spots in my house, where I can take notes of my moods everyday and secretly sit near the window and begin my diary. Breathing in green, fresh air created by my miniscape, I immerse myself in the rare fresh oxygen in Beijing.
I started playing piano at a very early age, and now the piano still accompanies me although my family moved several times. Keys begin, keys end. Eighty-eight keys is finite, however, the music that you can make is infinite. And I really enjoy such feeling when my fingers agily dance on the keys making out rosy scenery  from low to high pitches. When coming down from the high pitches, the sound drops just like pearls falling down onto the floor, scattered but glossy. The warm sunlight in the afternoon, the elegant and ancient note,  the highlighted tiny figure in memory, make a picturesque scenery . I just can't get rid of the feeling  I have when I sit down in front of my piano.




To make full use of the space, we built up the "Glass Castle" on the roof.  It's a place that allows me to be unrealistic and daydream. After it was built, you can no longer find me in any other rooms except for this one. On sunny days,  looking out from the room , showering under the sunbeams ,  my thoughts always get lost. While on rainy days, I always lie back in my armchair with blankets over my shoulders and my dog lies on the floor . I look up at the rain deftly taping the glass roof. Sometimes, I fall asleep along the chords made  by the rhythm of raindrop and the chiming of  thunder .  

Home, my spirit lodges, the fate of my soul.